


Faridah's Delivery

by SilhouetteofScribe



Category: Deus Ex: Human Revolution
Genre: Dildos, Masturbation, Other, Self-cest, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 23:34:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3707511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilhouetteofScribe/pseuds/SilhouetteofScribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pritchard intercepts a package intended for Faridah and finds himself in possession of one of her sex toys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faridah's Delivery

It started as an accident. His job required for him to monitor all strange behavior and unusual transactions. And though it hadn't been a large purchase or flagged as dangerous, he decided to look into the order. Since it was placed while on company premises, he felt no qualms in redirecting the delivery to himself. When it arrived at his apartment early Sunday morning, Frank Pritchard had a lot of trouble understanding how he had came into possession of a bright red, silicone dildo.

 

For a while, he just stared at it. The package had been discreetly wrapped in brown paper, but beneath that was clear plastic surrounding a toy so brightly colored, he wondered how the thin paper had concealed it during shipping. Pritchard held his breath. The man who left it on his desktop said, “Enjoy your day.” What did he _know_? As Frank considered the implications, the toy rested on his table, rigid and unyieldingly firm. He looked back to it and frowned. This was this last time he'd interfere with Faridah's packages.

 

It didn't even look real, Pritchard noted. Unless there was some devil fixation that she hid to her coworkers. But, Pritchard thought, surely a devil's penis would be larger and possibly distorted in some way. He imagined that a penis dangling forever over brimstone would end up blackened and calloused. This was shiny and sleek. With the exception of the bulbous, sculpted head, this was almost featurelessly smooth. The tip was larger than the rest, which intrigued the engineer in him. If the shaft were created to be narrow, but the head widened out after a textured lip, then he knew there was an intention behind the design. Surely this was for grip. There were, as he Pritchard recalled, sharks who utilized barbs that held onto mates during copulation. This design was probably for the same intention. It was meant to stay inserted. Pritchard looked to the bulbous head. He would have given the edge a more drastic angle. That would affix itself better.

 

The dildo's model was the Vanguard. Pritchard read the sideways text on the clear box. “'100% silicone designed by hand and crafted with love. Anatomically designed with you in mind. Hours of pleasure guaranteed.'” He reread the label. “Hours?”

 

He looked through the glossy design to the thing inside. The packing slip at his side listed it as 60 dollars. Pritchard snorted. In his many years gaining experience with masturbation and fulfilling the role of his own mate with softwares and novelty pillows, never had he bought an instrument such as this.

 

He wanted to throw it away. He didn't want to imagine what Faridah would do with it. He knew it was better off just ignored.

 

Pritchard opened the box. The toy slid out and he placed it down on the table, where it stood upright on a wider base. There it stayed, nearly glowing in the dim light. He studied it. The way it caught the light, the thickness, the shape of the head. He pulled down his pants to confirm something, then realized it was true: the toy was exactly his size.

 

With trepidation, he wrapped around his hand and took it by the shaft. It met his touch with pliant resistance and jiggled when he jostled it. Pritchard placed it next to his own exposed penis and compared them. They looked close enough, but without an erection, it would be hard to know for sure. He let his mind wander for a moment. Pritchard had to know.

 

She was yelling at him the previous afternoon. When he changed the locks on her office and made her late to a client, she was right there at his door to voice her anger. Her argument was flawed, she skipped a few words in anger and wasted more of his time with the ordeal than was necessary, but looking back on the way she shouted, he savored every moment. He remembered the way her mouth hung open, lips tight in the indignant second syllable of an insult, the mole above her lip almost dancing with passion.

 

Although he would never say it to her, he found her beautiful. But only when she was angry. Faridah Malik was a boorish and simple woman who took too much enjoyment in the common skill of piloting. It was only when he had her riled and screaming that he found her even the slightest bit interesting. The woman could swear at someone for hours. And though her logic never formulated anything of merit to debate, she ran entirely on emotion, which boiled and raged without end.

 

She would probably be just as aggressive with this. He imagined her slamming it into herself violently. Even then she'd be crude. She'd swear the entire time. Talking down to it. Demanding more from the inanimate object and deriding it as worthless when it didn't bring her to satisfaction quickly enough. There he saw her, still in her flight uniform, the pants just open enough to let her slip the dildo in. Now she held it to her crotch and bucked out of the pilot's chair, fucking the toy with every ounce of energy she had, burning the heat of all of her wild emotions hotter than he had ever seen lost on shouting contests with him.

 

Pritchard was rubbing his cock now. It was harder than ever before. So hard that it almost hurt. He could see the veins along the shaft straining. The head was bloated and pulsed against his palm. The toy filled his left hand, his throbbing erection in his right. Yes, they were the same size. Almost exactly. If Faridah had been shipped the dildo, it would be inside her right now. That thought made him so dizzy that Pritchard had to lay down. He fell back against the couch and pounded his hand down his shaft repeatedly until he cried out. It was mind blowing. He struggled out of his clothes awkwardly trying to keep his hand moving through the whole process. In his haste, he fell onto the floor. But he never stopped jacking off, even when he slammed his shin against the table.

 

He was panting. It was driving him crazy. He held the dildo before his face. That's what I look like, he thought. If I were to stick my cock in her face, this is what she'd . . . Before he knew what he was doing, he licked the toy. It tasted artificial. The material was pliant and warm. He was surprised by how soft it felt. All thoughts of trepidation left him. If Faridah had the toy, she'd lick it, he thought. She'd probably have to in order to lubricate it. Or maybe she just liked to. Would she be able to fit the entire...?

 

Pritchard took the dildo into his mouth slowly. The artificial taste came back. Stronger now. But with his hand on his own similarly sized phallus, a strange thought occurred to him. He sat up. With his pants still around his ankles, he made his way out of the front room.

 

The baby oil was only a little cold, but warmed up in his hand in moments. By the time he spread it along his shaft, he worried it would burn up and evaporate. But he licked the toy again, this time aware of how his hand slid along the head of his cock. He ran his tongue up and down the side and traced his thumb along a parallel trajectory. He took in the head of the dildo and sucked it, this time working his own head with a ring formed by his thumb and index finger. He twisted slowly, running his thumb in the crevasse below his engorged cock's head. He looked down to the real cock, the one coming from his hips. Strands of clear liquid welled up from the tip. He took his hand away, leaving a string that connected his fingers to the end of his cock.

 

This was the most intense masturbating he could remember. His penis was so swollen he thought it would rupture. Every touch to his cock made him feel like he would blow and endless load. And the more he licked the cock, the more he knew why. Something he heard a long time before rang back in his mind: masturbation is having sex with someone you love.

 

Pritchard threw the toy to the side and sat up. He moved to the bedroom and rushed to his deck. It booted up with his mere proximity and brought him to his favorite matrix hubs. He dismissed these with a wave of his left hand, still keeping himself erect with his good hand. The site was blurry and he frequently looked down to focus his attention on maintaining the pleasure, but he managed to fill out the forms with one hand and divided focus.

 

“Order confirmed. Please remain still for analysis.”

 

Pritchard rolled his eyes. “That can't really be taken from my records? What failed engineer thought that photography would be the best method of obtaining a likeness?”

 

“Please remain still for analysis.”

 

Pritchard kept his face still. “Oh. So I can't talk either. Genius design.”

 

“Please remain still for analysis.”

 

“Huh?” Pritchard asked aloud. He was being still. Then his eyes went to his crotch. “Oh, that.” He stopped his wrist. It was agonizing. It felt as though static were radiating from his cock. It hurt not to be still sliding his hand over his head. As the deck captured his naked body, Pritchard fought not to dive onto his own penis. If only he could reach far enough. He'd suck his cock hard enough to pull out both testicles through the urethra.

 

The deck went quiet. “Thank you. Your order will be delivered overnight.”

 

Pritchard ignored the delivery confirmation, instead falling back onto his floor and rubbing out the last of his stamina. He grit his teeth together, growling savagely. With another hard pump, he felt the the orgasm rip through him. He writhed back, continuing to stroke as he felt the warmth run down and coat his hand. Drops covered his chest and the floor around him. But he didn't care. There he slept, naked as before, with the lights on, semen everywhere and the window open.

 

***

 

“If you think you can do my job, then by all means, Francis. How would you defend yourself against heavy fire?”

 

Frank rolled his eyes at the head of security. “Don't be cute, Jensen. I never meant to imply that I was cut out for such callings as infiltration or dragging my knuckles behind enemy lines. That said, I will gladly tell you how to do your job. Would you like what I can think of off the top of my head, or do you have time for me to retrieve my list of your mistakes?”

 

Adam Jensen crossed his arms. “I don't have time for this. I asked a simple question.”

 

“There's a surprise,” Pritchard lilted. “The head of security has something simple to say.”

 

The gigantic box rolled along the wall and past the window of Pritchard's office. His eyes followed it out of habit, but paid no attention until the delivery man interrupted him. “Scuse me, fellas. One of you Nukkalur Snake?”

 

Jensen turned to face the service worker, hiding his impatience behind shaded eyes. When he saw the crate taking up the entire doorway, his jaw dropped open. The sunglasses retracted from his face. “It's Nuclea...” began Pritchard. “I mean, I'm... give me that.” Jensen watched as the programmer moved to the delivery man and snatched the manifest from his clipboard. Then he did something that Jensen had never seen before. He blushed.

 

“So just give that a sign and tell me where to...” the man with the crate started, but faltered when Frank began changing colors. “Say, mac. You feelin' alright?”

 

Pritchard rushed over to his desk. “Perfectly fine, that will do,” he said, signing the paperwork and shoving it into the man's chest in the same impossible movement. “Just leave it in the corner, I can take care of it myself, thank you very much.”

 

“Wow. Francis.” Jensen admired the package. “Did you buy a fridge for the break room?”

 

“I'm very busy,” Pritchard said, settling into his chair. “If you don't mind.”

 

“I don't,” Jensen said. “But my question.”

 

Pritchard reached into his desk and produced an old stapler. He handed it to Jensen. “Bring it back when you're done.”

 

“You got it.”

 

***

 

Pritchard shoved handfuls of the packing material out of the way. With every tear of the foam, he saw the figure clearer. Slowly, Pritchard unearthed the visage in the box. A moment later, he pulled away a final strand of long padding and found himself staring back.

 

The likeness was more than uncanny. Frank Pritchard stood before a replica of himself. It shared his physique entirely, from imperfections to hair style. Being in the same room as a naked copy of yourself staring back at you is more than a little disorienting.

 

But Pritchard couldn't forget that feeling of the other night. He knew how crazy he had gone. And that was just the mere idea. He spoke, triggering the figure. The irises of the life-sized Pritchard figure focused. It locked onto him.

 

“That's right, keep staring. I'll give you as much time for your overworked brain to assess what you see before you,” the replica said.

 

Pritchard scowled. “Don't talk down to me, you silicone lump of boolean misfires,” he retorted. “I can always repurpose you into a cardiopulmonary resuscitation aid for seniors.”

 

The replica crossed its arms defiantly. “I don't recommend threatening me any further. I know your safety word and at the slightest excuse I will shut you down and alter your programming.”

 

“This is the fastest trip to nowhere I have ever paid seven thousand dollars for,” Pritchard lamented. “Please tell me that you come with mute functionality.”

 

***

 

Faridah Malik stood in the hallway watching the two bicker. It was the weirdest thing she ever saw. And then she saw the dildo she ordered two days ago on the counter.

 

With a shiver, she switched her cloaking software back on and slipped back through the hallway, passing through Pritchard's insane security systems like a ghost. Then, only for a second, she pushed her arm out from the obscuring cyberweave and extended a middle finger at the security camera.

 

 


End file.
